Coming Back Home
by Handles14
Summary: Dean had been shaken by Bobby's actions when Death had visited South Dakota. A werewolf encounter brings him back to Bobby in need of care. Spoilers from Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

"Hang in there, Dean," Sam said as he sped down the rugged South Dakota road. "We'll be at Bobby's in no time."

Dean groaned and rolled his head along the window. His arm never left its protective embrace around his shredded stomach. "No."

"Dean, be reasonable," Sam argued. "You've lost too much blood and you're already getting an infection."

"We can't," Dean panted. "He's already dealing with so much…" Dean broke off with a groan as Sam hit a particularly large pothole.

"Sorry, God, Dean," Sam reached one hand over and squeezed Dean's arm. Dean groaned again in response and then went silent.

They had been hunting a werewolf about eighty miles away from Bobby's place. Sam had wanted to call Bobby in to help him get his mind off things, but Dean had been adamant. They would do this alone.

Sam knew Dean had forgiven Bobby for pointing a gun at them a few weeks ago in his house. Sam also knew that Dean was knocked off balance by the occurrence. It had taken years for Dean to trust Bobby. Now, a second father figure had pushed aside Dean's loyalty, even though this time it had been based on grief. Sam had planned to just give Dean space and let him come to terms with it on his own. However, the werewolf had other ideas.

This creature had been particularly strong. Sam and Dean, weary from the events that had occurred just a few weeks before hadn't had time to fully prepare since the full moon was that night. They had followed the werewolf into the woods where it had dragged its latest victim. Dean had been lined up for the kill when a second werewolf came out of nowhere. Sam was able to dispose of the original werewolf, and Dean was able to kill the new one. However, its claws had caught Dean across the stomach. The scratches were deep and messy. Sam had taken Dean back to the hotel to clean him up, but as soon as he saw the wounds in the light he knew he would need more supplies. He had bound Dean's stomach tightly and bundled him into the car. He sped down the road toward Bobby's and more medical supplies.

By the time Sam got to Bobby's, Dean was either mostly asleep or unconscious. Sam could still see tight lines of pain around Dean's eyes and mouth. However, he had given up his arguments and fallen silent. Sam gently squeezed his shoulder and climbed out of the car. By now, the Sun was beginning to rise and the first streaks of dawn were visible in the night sky. Sam knocked forcefully on the door. "Bobby! Are you awake?" he yelled as he pounded on the door. Sam was shocked that the door opened almost instantly. He stepped back in surprise as Bobby came outside.

"Whatdaya want boy," Bobby slurred slightly.

Sam squinted at Bobby. "Are you drunk?" he asked, his heart sinking.

"Nope," Bobby replied. "Not far from it though. What brings you to my doorstep at the ass crack of dawn."

Sam's momentary distraction was removed as he remembered his bleeding brother in the car. "It's Dean," he said. Sam could see concern replace confusion on Bobby's face.

"What's that boy gotten into this time?" he asked.

"Werewolf," Sam replied succinctly as he began walking back to the car. Bobby rolled quickly behind him. "We miscounted. There were two instead of one, and Dean got caught across the stomach with claws." By now they had reached the car, and Sam was gently opening the door so he could catch Dean if he fell out. Sure enough, Dean began sliding out of the car, but Sam was able to stop him in time.

"We're here bro," Sam said as he crouched down to Dean's level. Dean looked down at him with glassy eyes.

"I told you no," Dean grunted, trying to slide back into the car. He stopped with a groan as the movement pulled on his abdomen.

"And why would you do a fool thing like that?" Bobby huffed as he got a good luck at Dean's pale face.

"Bobby?" Dean looked up in surprise. He quickly pulled himself together and straightened up despite the pain it caused him. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Sam here is over-reacting."

"Bull shit," Bobby countered. "Sam, get this fool inside. I'll go ahead and get the supplies."

"Come on Dean," Sam insisted. "You're dead on your feet and your wounds require more help than I can give in a motel."

"We don't stay a second longer than we have to," Dean insisted.

"Fine," Sam agreed, reaching into the car and hooking Dean's knees under his arm.

"I can walk," Dean insisted.

"You're just going to rip the wounds open again if you try to move," Sam said. "I've got you." He hoisted Dean up in his arms, causing Dean to groan again.

Sam quickly carried his older brother into the house, noting how Dean had lost weight recently. He thought of what he had caught Famine saying as he walked in, full of power from the demon blood. " _You're not hungry because you're already dead inside._ "

He tightened his grip and hurried, resolving to speak with Dean more thoroughly later. Right now, he needed to get the bleeding fully stopped and the infection eliminated as soon as possible.

Sam carried Dean into their usual room and set him down gently on the bed. He gently helped Dean straighten his legs, apologizing several times for the pain it caused. By the time Sam had Dean comfortably settled and had cut off his shirt, Bobby rolled in with medical supplies. He cursed at the sight in front of him and moved up to Dean's head.

"That werewolf got you good boy. It's going to take some work to fix that up."

Dean's eyes were at half-mast by now, but he seemed to become more alert, much to Sam's regret. "We won't be here long." Dean was trying to reassure himself as well as Bobby, Sam was sure. However, Bobby's eyes seemed to harden.

"You'll stay until you are damn well enough to leave, and I won't hear another word about it," he huffed. "Now here. I don't have anything stronger I'm afraid." Bobby pulled Dean's head up and helped him chase down some swigs of whiskey. Dean's eyes were back to half-mast and Sam now felt more comfortable with working.

He began by tediously cleaning out the long scratches that started just below his rib cage and ended at his hips. They were full of dirt and whatever else the werewolf had been into. Sam was trying not to think about it. Two of the wounds seemed to be relatively clean, but the other three were already puffy and showing signs of infection.

Bobby sat on the other side of Sam and handed him supplies as needed. Sam was so focused on his work that he barely noticed his worried glances at Dean's face. Gently, Bobby put his hand on Dean's forehead causing Dean's eyes to fly back open in surprise.

"He's got a fever, Sam," Bobby informed him seriously. "It's getting to be a bad one at that."

Dean weakly started to protest, but Sam could see he was reaching his limit.

"I figured," Sam said calmly although he let Bobby see the concern in his eyes. "Do you have antibiotics?"

"Some, but they aren't near strong enough," Bobby admitted. "I can get some rounded up in a jiffy. The doc owes me some favors."

Sam nodded and went back to cleaning the wounds, trying to ignore Dean's hiss of pain as he renewed his efforts. The wounds, while not life threatening, were bad enough that Sam realized Dean would be laid up quite a bit longer than he wanted to be.

"Almost finished, Dean," Sam soothed as he cleaned out the last wound. "Just need to stitch you up, and you'll be good as new."

Dean smirked and gently rolled his head to look at Sam. "You suck at lying, Sammy."

"Whatever, Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam gently smirked and began stitching Dean's stomach as Bobby came back from calling the Doctor.

"Doc says he's got some antibiotics he can give me. You'll have to go get them though, Sam."

Sam nodded and refocused his efforts on finishing. Dean was sweating now, and Sam could see how hard he was working to not cry out in pain.

Sam finally finished and cleaned up the supplies and the room. Bobby had fallen asleep next to Dean and Dean was either asleep or unconscious. Sam gently wrapped Dean's abdomen in bandages and felt his forehead again. Dean was burning up now and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Sam sighed. They could never catch a break. Sam went and filled a large bowl with water. He grabbed several washcloths and brought them back with them. When he returned, Sam gently woke Bobby.

"I need to go get those antibiotics," Sam informed him. "His fever is getting pretty high."

Bobby nodded groggily but seemed to come more fully awake when he realized how he could feel the heat pouring off of Dean. He grabbed one of the washcloths and laid it across Dean's forehead.

"I'll wake him and give him the antibiotics I have," Bobby replied. "You git going."

Sam nodded and looked back at Dean. He hated leaving him vulnerable like this, even though Bobby was with him. He gently rubbed his hand over Dean's sweat slicked forehead. "I'll be right back," he promised. He left quickly before his resolve could be shaken. He would be back at Dean's side in no time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bobby rung out the washcloth and wiped the sweat rolling down Dean's face. He had given him the only dosage of antibiotics that he had an hour ago, but it wasn't helping. He had also given Dean some aspirin to lower the fever and reduce the pain, but it did not seem to be achieving either purpose.

Bobby startled slightly when his phone began to ring. Dean stirred and moaned but settled back down again.

"Hello," Bobby answered, knowing it was Sam since he and Dean were now the only ones who had his personal cell number.

"Hey, Bobby, how's Dean?" Sam's voice was riddled with concern.

"Not too good," Bobby answered honestly. "The antibiotics and aspirin haven't helped him. In fact, while you're there, see if you can also get some pain meds. He's in a hell of a lot of pain. Just tell Dr. Fields it's for my leg."

"Yeah, I'll try, but Bobby, I haven't been able to find the doctor yet."

Bobby swore. "Did you try the hospital? He also sees patients there."

"I'll go there now and try to find him," Sam replied. "Do you think we should just bring Dean in?"

"We will if he gets any worse," Bobby said. "However, it's best if you boys lay low after everything that happened. Some people are still bitter about what happened."

"Yeah, I understand," Sam said. "I'll go check the hospital and see what I can find."

"You do that," Bobby said gruffly, rubbing his beard. "I'll keep looking after him until you get back. Be careful."

"Thanks, Bobby. Call me if he gets any worse."

Bobby acknowledged and hung up with a sigh. He honestly didn't understand how the boys got into half the scrapes they got into. Especially Dean.

"Sammy?" Dean mumbled groggily.

Bobby returned to wiping his face down. "He's gone to get you some meds," Bobby answered him patiently. Dean had been slightly delirious and they had already talked about this.

However, instead of settling back into sleep, Dean looked slightly frightened.

"What is it Dean?" Bobby asked with concern.

"Where am I?" Dean asked.

"My place," Bobby responded. "Take it easy, Sam will be back soon. Do you think you could drink some water? You've lost quite a bit of blood and you're running a high fever."

Dean didn't seem to comprehend what Bobby was saying, just began moving to get out of bed.

"Now what the hell do you think you're trying to do, boy?" Bobby asked with anger, seeing the grimace of pain on Dean's face.

"We're not supposed to be here," Dean replied, still trying to move although the effort seemed tremendous.

"And what gave you that idea you idjit?" Bobby questioned with annoyance as he pushed Dean back onto the bed.

"You'll shoot us," Dean panted as he sank back down. "Because I messed things up. I…your wife."

Bobby's anger fled and guilt began to take its place. "Boy, that was weeks ago." His words seemed to have no effect, so he tried a different tactic. "Never you mind that," he told Dean. "Things are fine between us. You saved my life, remember?"

Dean didn't seem to hear him. A lone tear rolled out of his eye. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"Aw, hell Dean."

Whatever small part of Bobby's heart that wasn't already broken shattered in that instant. He gently wiped the tear away and patted Dean's hand. Dean moaned lightly and settled back into a restless sleep.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam returned an hour later with stronger antibiotics but no pain meds.

"I tried," Sam assured Bobby as he practically sprinted to Dean's room. "He said he couldn't give you those without another appointment."

"Damn it," Bobby swore.

"You know he wouldn't take them," Sam soothed gently, turning to look at Bobby from the side of Dean's bed.

Bobby watched from the doorway as Sam gently woke Dean. He was trying to keep his distance to avoid distressing Dean again.

"Time is it?" Dean mumbled as Sam propped him up to take the pill and the water.

"Around 3," Sam informed him. "You've been sleeping most of the day."

"Time to go?" Dean asked.

"No, Dean," Sam insisted gently as he laid him back down. "You're too sick and moving you now could tear your stiches. We'll be here for a few days."

"No," Dean insisted. "It isn't right."

"Dean, stop," Sam commanded gently. "Bobby's fine with it."

Dean looked Sam in the eye and swallowed drily. "It's too soon."

"The hell it is," Bobby said from the doorway. "You're staying here and that's that."

Dean looked ready to protest, but Sam silenced him with more water.

"You heard him, bro," he said as he settled Dean back again. "We're going to go get some food. You rest until then. The antibiotics should start working soon and you'll feel much better."

Sam wiped Dean's forehead while he fell back asleep. Together, he and Bobby headed into the kitchen to make some food that Dean could eat.

"Sam," Bobby started and saw his shoulders drop. "Tell me why Dean is still upset about a few weeks ago."

Sam sighed and began rummaging for a cutting board. He quickly set to chopping up the vegetables he had bought at the store before continuing.

"He's just…a little more vulnerable right now," Sam tried to excuse.

"Bull shit," Bobby stated. "You and I both know that Dean is only truly honest when he's at his weakest, so try that again, boy."

"He's not angry," Sam answered. "I think he was just hurt. He's just viewed you as a father figure for so long..."

"And?" Bobby prompted him to continue.

"Despite the fact that Dean's never been in love, you and I both know he understands the sacrifices someone would make to protect the people they love. Hell, he sold his soul for me." Sam sighed. "I think he just wasn't expecting that from you. From Dad, sure, just…not from you." Sam shrugged at the end like he was trying to soften the blow he knew his words would cause. Damn him.

"I was a damn fool," Bobby admitted softly. "I knew your brother was right, I just didn't want to believe him."

Sam smiled. "For what it's worth, we knew that. Dean's just been through a lot lately. He hasn't really been himself, especially since we got back from…"  
"From where?" Bobby demanded.

"It's complicated but we had to go back in time to try to stop ourselves from being born." Sam laughed self-deprecatingly. "Obviously, that was not successful."

Bobby felt like raging at Sam over this news, but also knew that now was not the time.

"I'll make it up to your brother, somehow," Bobby swore, getting back to their original topic.

Sam laughed then, a genuine laugh. "Bobby, you don't have to. We understand."

Bobby smiled back at him. They were damn good kids. John should be proud. Bobby knew he was. Still, he would be speaking with Dean when he was back in his right mind. It was time to set things right.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean cursed as he dropped the coffee cup to the floor as the room momentarily swum around him. Today was his first day out of bed by himself, and the residual dizziness was hard to shake off. While his wounds themselves weren't overly serious, they were painful and he had been fighting an infection for the last few days. His fever had finally broken yesterday, but Dean still felt weak and drained. However, that was not about to stop him from making his escape today if he could.

Dean held no resentment towards Bobby. He knew he would have pulled a gun on anyone threatening Sam just as Bobby had done to him. However, Dean hated that it had come to that, and he couldn't deny that the actions felt reminiscent of some of the stunts his own father had pulled when he was still alive. It wasn't that Dean didn't love John, he had just felt like he and Bobby had a different kind of relationship. He apparently had thought wrong.

"And just what do you think you're doing boy?" Bobby barked from the doorway, causing Dean to jump. He couldn't hide the grimace of pain that slipped through, both for allowing himself to be startled and because his abdomen was still very sore. "Sit down before you fall down," Bobby finished with some concern in his voice.

Dean smiled tiredly and turned back to the coffee maker. "Nah, that's alright. I'm not tired. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Wasn't a suggestion, boy," Bobby told him, wheeling further into the kitchen and beginning to prepare breakfast. "And, no, you didn't wake me up."

Dean grimaced one last time when he thought Bobby wasn't looking and then took a seat.

"Sam finally sleeping?" Bobby asked easily as he began frying some bacon and eggs.

"Yeah," Dean said with an affectionate smile. "His mother hen instinct finally shut off around midnight."

Bobby chuckled at Dean's description. "Well I guess he learned from the best," Bobby offered, turning to give Dean a proud smile.

Dean felt an embarrassed flush spread over his face and turned his eyes to the table, pretending it was holding his interest instead of what Bobby was saying. He felt like he was on uneven ground with Bobby right now. The foundation of their friendship felt cracked, but Dean was damned if he knew how to fix it.

"So, uh, would you care to explain to me when you started confusing me with John Winchester?" Bobby asked, trying to say it lightly.

Dean's head snapped up so fast that he heard his neck crack. He had no idea where that had come from but he began to worry that it had something to do with his fever induced delirium. "Pardon?" he asked when he thought he could convey his usual mask.

"Listen, Dean, while you were sick you got pretty confused for awhile," Bobby sighed. "I gave you good reason to look at me the same way you looked at John. And I'm sorry."

"Bobby, you know I love you man, but what the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked with confusion.

Bobby sighed, and Dean would have done anything to remove the forlorn expression of his face. He knew that coming here would only bring him more pain. Damn it.

"I was a fool," Bobby admitted slowly, "to think that I could save Karen. It weren't natural, her coming back like that."

Dean was still trying to grapple for the right thing to say when Bobby continued. "I was a fool," he repeated, "and it almost cost me the most important thing in my life. Karen was dead…is dead. But you aren't. And I'm so ashamed that I would even pull a gun out and threaten my own…"

"Bobby," Dean interrupted, desperate to assuage his guilt. "Sam and me…we understood. Hell, we've done worse for each other."

Bobby smiled sadly. "I know that, Dean. But I was still wrong. I'll never stop missing Karen. I'll never get over the guilt of killing her. But I sure as hell would never have survived losing you again, or losing Sam." Bobby turned away from the stove and looked Dean right in the eye. "And if I had known how unsettled I had made you, I would have fixed this a lot sooner. Dean, I never want you to hesitate to come here when you are sick or hurt or even if you just want to grab a beer and shoot the breeze. The fact is, this is your home too. And never again do I want you to hesitate coming back here for whatever reason."

Dean felt like his face was frozen as his brain came to a stop. He had no idea how to respond to that kind of sentiment. A home was something he hadn't had. Not since he was five, and he sure as hell didn't know how to start having one now.

"Bobby…I…" Dean stammered.

"I know Dean," Bobby said softly as he brought two plates of food over in his lap. "I want you to stay for a few more days. Get your strength back. You can't fight the Apocalypse if you aren't at full strength. And it's my pleasure to take care of you because you and Sam are the closest thing to family I've ever had."

Dean closed his mouth wearily and nodded. He knew there was no arguing with Bobby, and he could freely admit that he had missed Bobby's gruff affection. He and Sam could spare a few more days.

"Now," Bobby said more lightly. "If this chick flick moment can be finished, I would appreciate if you would pass me the ketchup."

Dean smiled, knowing that the foundation he was standing on with Bobby was firm once again. "You know, if you would learn how to cook properly in the first place, you wouldn't have to smother the taste of your food with this stuff."

Bobby rolled his eyes heavenward. "Shut up, idjit."

Dean laughed and settled back to enjoy his own food. He knew he and Sam had hell to face over the next few weeks as the Michael and Lucifer battle loomed ever closer, but for now, it was nice to be able to come back home.


End file.
